


Tranquility Disturbed

by BumbleBooty



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Body Worship, Clothed Sex, Frottage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 10:39:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16830997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumbleBooty/pseuds/BumbleBooty
Summary: Quentin guards David as he sleeps, and takes the time to investigate the group's scrapper a little closer.David finds it horribly amusing.





	Tranquility Disturbed

**Author's Note:**

> I have no reason.

There was something about the way David curled into him that made Quentin’s heart flutter in ways it hadn’t in... what felt like _years_ now. The growing curls of the Brit’s beard scratched against his throat, but the dream walker didn’t dare to move. The scrapper had been through a particularly rough trial, with the huntress out for the aggravating Brit’s blood.

In the Killer’s defense, David had thrown that flashlight _pretty hard_ after he had blinded her for the sixth time, running the batteries permanently dead- unless, of course, he survived. Needless to say, that didn’t happen.

Now he was nursing a rather deep cut in his skull, which The Entity was slowly stitching back together. Knowing the dream walker was always willing to coddle someone- _anyone_ , really. In David’s opinion, Quentin was quite touch starved - David had actively sought out the spot Quentin had claimed in the woods, flopping down beside him with a well-meaning grin. Quentin had opened his arms with a shy smile, and now got the upmost honor of watching David’s chest rise and fall in a slow rhythm.

Quentin carefully drug his fingers through the fluff on top of David’s head, grinning as the head subconsciously tilted into the contact. Those same fingers trailed down the side of David’s head to caress the shorter buzz Dwight had given him with a rather sharp rock. They continued to slide further down to cup David’s jaw in his palm before lightly stroking against the smooth skin of his throat. Although it had been a while, Quentin could still feel the healing scar from the Hag’s last mori. Within a few more trials, it would be nonexistent once more.

David grumbled in his sleep, pressing his head closer to Quentin’s shoulder with no other reaction to the gentle affection he was being given. Quentin readjusted him as carefully as he could, looking down at the sleeping face in his arms.

Seeing the feisty man so peaceful made his heart clench.

Quentin stroked his knuckles against David’s cheek, stroking over his cheekbone with his thumb. That same thumb drifted lower, and Quentin’s breath subconsciously held as the pad met slightly parted lips. David’s lips were far softer than they looked, and deceptively plush with how thin they appeared.

His nose was investigated next, with Quentin tracing the bridge several times, releasing his shaky breath as he committed each bump of a previous break to memory. On the fifth stroke, the fluttering of an eyelash brushed against the muscular part of Quentin’s thumb and tempted his attention.  
Quentin moved on to investigate the bone on David’s eye sockets, but quickly found himself drifting back down to David’s throat.

Even with the scarring, it was still so damn soft.

Quentin’s arm slid tighter around David’s waist, giving his head a better support as it slid down to the crook of his elbow. The new angle let Quentin explore further, trailing over his collarbone with the barest tip of his pointer finger. He traced it again, following the movement with his eyes as he pressed a little harder.

The sudden laugh started him.

Quentin jerked his hand away so fast he almost dropped David, but the Brit didn’t mind- he was still laughing too hard at his easy scare.

Quentin’s cheeks burned as he refused to make eye contact. “I- Jesus, I-“

David happily took Quentin's flustered state as an opportunity to put his arms around Quentin’s neck, almost folding him in half as he pulled the sleepy survivor into a rumbling hug. Quentin immediately pushed against him- trying his best to ignore how solid his chest was, but it was like pushing against one of the killers and certainly didn’t help his flushed face- and immediately sat back up, his cheeks burning brightly with embarrassment. David sat up as well, his laughter subsided to snickers and a wide grin.

Quentin didn’t pay it much mind, as he was rising to his feet as soon as David cleared his lap. Maybe dunking his head in the nearby river until he drowned would finally banish his embarrassment- _god how would he ever look him in the face again?!_

David’s hand shot out just before he was out of reach, grabbing Quentin’s wrist and pulling him down into his own arms. Quentin’s cheeks were a dark red when a yelp slipped from his lips, and the color was slowly spreading to his throat and ears. He went rigid in the other’s arms- David's mind went to a startled puppy, and dear god the image didn't make Quentin look any less precious- and stared up into David's eyes.

David’s grin didn’t fade as he stared back into surprised blue eyes. “Yer gonna leave before I can return the favor? Tha’s jus’ rude!”

His grin just grew as Quentin’s mouth opened and closed a few times, before clamping closed completely as his eyes turned to the dirt. Neat, apparently a blush can make your voice stop working too!

David’s snickering began again. “It’s aiite Quen. I doubt you meant to be creepy with it- After all, You do the same thing during trials. Remember the first time you saw the gennies?”

Quentin just whined at that, his hands coming up to cover his face. He had been caught so many times because the oil wasn’t an oil-like consistency, prompting him to stare at his hands instead of fixing the gens. It had ridiculously easy for killers to catch him until he had gotten over that little aspect of the Entity’s realm.

Quentin could never quite forget how Meg had been pissed that the newbie was ‘garbage’ at trials, vowing not to save him until he ‘got good’… then his penchant for finding medkits had been discovered, and he became a fast favorite for trial partner.

His ability to hide was removed as David caught his hands before they hid their owner from view, holding one close to his own chest as the other coaxed Quentin’s hand into curling around his pointer and middle fingers, securing the thin digits with his thumb until he felt confident that Quentin wouldn’t move it.

David investigated each digit carefully- just as Quentin had investigated his face. Every scar and cut were traced with David’s thumb or eyes, slowly rotating the thinner appendage as Quentin fell completely quiet- not even embarrassed sighs or groans were escaping his lips now. The hand being held against David’s chest fell to Quentin’s, resting limp over Quentin’s pounding heart.

David’s newly freed hand joined the investigation, tracing over several burns undoubtedly caused by the generators they were forced to complete. David coaxed the hand upwards, pressing a kiss to each knuckle before moving on, kissing towards the back of his hand. Quentin’s flushed face was turning from a red to a pink, watching with mystification as David’s lips moved to his palm.

“Yer hands ‘re soft.” It was barely a whisper against his skin, but it still had Quentin’s ears ringing like David had shot right next to his head. He would refuse to admit how his hand shook as he caressed David’s jaw, but based on the kiss that was delivered to his palm, didn’t think he would be questioned on the matter.

David’s lips continued to his wrist, going as far as they could before the material of his jacket blocked any further progress.

David was not deterred, giving the second hand the same treatment until both of Quentin’s palms rested on his cheeks.

It was a tense moment when he ran out of skin to kiss- as Quentin's jacket was questioningly tugged. It came off easily when Quentin slowly sat up, with David’s hands sliding it from his shoulders like silk. Quentin's hands nervously gathered the material of his jacket between his fingers as Quentin tried not to focus on how close their mouths were, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the melted chocolate eyes that stared into his own. David's mouth opened like he was going to ask a question, but no words came- the questioning, almost desperate look in his eyes was more than enough for Quentin to understand.

With a nod of approval spurring him on, Quentin’s right hand was slowly brought back up to his lips. Barely chapped lips crept up the length of pale skin covering Quentin's forearm, silently paying homage to the marks carved by his own nails in a desperate bid to stay awake. The elbow served as a turnaround, kissing back down the softer underside of the arm and paying the same respects before switching limbs, mirroring the movement until he was kissing up Quentin's bicep. His tee-shirt tried to cover the more delicate skin on his shoulders, but did a poor job as it was easily coaxed away from the skin it guarded.

Quentin's breath hitched as David's breath washed over his throat, trembling with barely contained _something_ as his neck was ignored in favor of giving his other bicep some kisses of its own. He trembled as he sank to rest on his heels, but the distance between them was not appreciated. David's hands found purchase on Quentin's waist, coaxing him forward until the smaller was comfortably resting on his lap.

It was amazing how different the world could look when you were sharing the same air with someone else.

It was also amazing how slow time seemed to pass when you were both frozen in place, your faces less than six inches apart.

David’s ultra-light exhale was the only warning Quentin got before the collar of his shirt was coaxed downwards, allowing David to resume his investigation. His lips were his primary tool to map out delicate collarbones and all the soft skin he could reach.

The first kiss to Quentin's throat drew a nearly silent gasp, but settled into a silent almost-moan of rushed air when the attention continued. David could feel his stomach churning when Quentin swallowed under his lips.

David tried his best to locate any marks on Quentin's throat- any indents from the nurse, any cuts from the hag, anything at all- and found nothing until his lips found the scar from Freddy's claws. Quentin shuddered beneath his lips as David followed the scar over Quentin's cheeks, over the bridge of his nose and up over his brow until he finally met Quentin's hairline.

Unsatisfied with just the one, each scar was kissed in full- saving the one that met his lips for last. David could feel Quentin's breaths quicken slightly with each press of lips closer to his own until he held it all together. David paused for a brief moment as he hovered above Quentin’s lips, waiting until he felt more delicate fingers grip his forearms.

The first brush of lips was a hesitant, shy touch that immediately had their eyes fluttering closed. Quentin might had thought it was another hallucination if it weren’t for the tingle that shocked through both of them. David was far more confident after hearing a breathless sigh, sealing their lips together fully with almost no pressure. In the back of his mind, he knew the groan that colored the air around them was his own.

He only increased in bravery as their kisses deepened, his hands stroking and caressing soft fabric and hidden curves until tongues met in time with warm fingertips slipping under the black shirt Quentin almost always wore. Quentin's back naturally arched away from the unexpected touch, and the gasp that separates them is nothing than a tease for David.

That wouldn't do at all.

Quentin promptly found himself coaxed onto his back, quietly moaning against David's lips as those fingers slid to stroke over his stomach. The absolute softness of his skin mystified David, who had been expecting some sort of coarseness due to body hair.  
It was definitely something he would investigate later, but right now David had more pressing issues...

Like kissing Quentin absolutely senseless, and the Entity itself wouldn’t be able to stop him from attending to that one.

Aside from the novelty of being kissed after so long in the fog with nothing but his hand and his memory, Quentin had always had something that pulled David’s eye to him.

Something that made his eyes linger just a tad longer than they should.

It certainly made him feel better when Quentin's hands finally slid from his arms to his neck, hesitating only slightly before sliding between the heavy jacket and his lighter button up, coaxing the material away from his body. It was almost a shame to let go of the dip of Quentin's waist to slide it off fully.

Even with his lingering embarrassment, Quentin couldn’t help but wonder how many times this jacket had accompanied David on his bar-hopping, sheltering him from freezing rain on cold Manchester nights. He knew the jacket was precious to David, and it threatened to burn his cheeks again as it was so carelessly dropped to the earth in favor of his wandering hands.

The rational part of his mind said he shouldn't enjoy the way that David smelled beneath that jacket- musky and oh so _him_ \- but he did.

The rational part of his mind said he shouldn't enjoy the taste lingering on his tongue- especially with how long it’s been since they brushed their teeth, but when had they last eaten?- but he _did_ enjoy it.

Most of all though, he enjoyed the calloused hands that were holding his waist in a sturdy grip, but somehow never squeezing hard enough to pinch or bruise his skin.

He enjoyed the touch, the _affection_ , that David was willingly giving him. When David's lips returned to his throat, Quentin tilted his head to the side and gasped for air. He was panting like he had just Sprint Burst away from both the Doctor and his death hook, escaping out the hatch- every part of him felt electric and alive for just this brief moment.

The suckling on his throat batted away his perpetual exhaustion, stabbing him through the heart with adrenaline and excitement far more potent than Nancy had ever given him. Especially when nails drug down his sides in time with teeth digging into his throat, drawing out a quiet cry as those nails found purchase on his knees. They were easily guided around David's waist, stroking the length of his thighs through his jeans as David's hands made their way under his shirt once more.

He shivered as cooler air joined David’s hands under his shirt, but chose to ignore it in favor of running his fingers through David’s hair and locking his ankles around David’s waist.

Their newest kiss continued until they were forced apart by the need for air, joined by a strand of saliva and a mutual groan as they parted. David’s lips quirked into a grin, dipping his head to the unblemished side of Quentin’s throat.

David felt the hands slide from his hair, tracing down his head and caressing his neck before skipping his chest and tugging at the rim of his shirt. He immediately straightened up once more, his grin growing even wider as he stared down at Quentin. It only took a few seconds for Quentin to swallow and reach for the buttons of his shirt.

Even though his fingers trembled, Quentin got the fabric off quickly.

David held still as Quentin’s eyes settled on his chest, tracing over the scars left by their killers. Slowly, his hands joined the search. David’s eyes fluttered shut as Quentin stroked his pecs with his fingertips, moving down to David’s abs before splaying his hands across David’s stomach.

With his forearms bracing on either side of Quentin’s head, there was no reason to resist the urge to kiss him again. It was easy to balance himself as his own hands pulled Quentin's shirt up his chest.

With his arms around David's neck to support his weight, Quentin lifted himself enough for the material to bunch around his neck. After that, it was a simple matter of falling back to the cold dirt and allowing it to be pulled free of his arms.

He couldn't help but snicker at the other's mystified face, only gasping slightly when larger hands stroked over his stomach. He didn't have to be a high school graduate to know the question on his mind.

“I like to swim- getting waxed makes you faster in water.” The simple statement had recognition flashing through David's eyes, followed by instantaneous sadness. The determined look that followed had a fire igniting in Quentin's stomach. “I'mma look forward ta seein’ ya swim sometime then."

Quentin just nodded as he swallowed around the sudden ball of embarrassment lodged in his throat. David's lips took to his throat once more, assisting in coaxing it away through distraction. Quentin didn't bother putting up a front, lolling his head to the opposite side and giving David free reign. It was graciously accepted and quickly combined with a firm grip on his hips, holding him in place as their hips were ground together in a slow roll.

Quentin's whole body lurched as his hand clamped around his mouth, futilely trying to smother the loud groan that escaped. David masked his grin with his teeth, burying them deeper into the sensitive juncture of Quentin’s throat and shoulder. It only took a few grinds to have him whining against his palm, his heels digging into the earth behind them as his free hand tangled in David's hair.

David could tell by the pitch of the whimpers and the grip on his hair that Quentin wasn’t going to last very long, and it only took two more hickies to prove himself right. He took every second of Quentin's surprisingly quiet finish to his memory, studying the arch of Quentin's back and the way he bit into his knuckles in a desperate attempt to stay quiet. It didn't take too long for him to meet his own orgasm, groaning into the abused skin covering Quentin’s desperate lungs.  
His kisses resumed when their breathing began to settle before David was spreading affection over Quentin's chest until his tongue briefly met a nipple.

Quentin jumped like he had been electrocuted, his head lifting to allow surprised blue and amused brown to meet.

David gave him his smuggest grin. “Wha’, you think 'm a one-an-done kinda guy?”

That adorable blush returned as David's hands dipped to unbutton Quentin's jeans. By the time David was through, Freddy would be quite pissed at the state of the dreamwalker.


End file.
